An Empty Shore
by goldfoil
Summary: Ch9-10: An OC gives us a different view of Azkadellia and the Northern Island, and then helps Azkadellia out on a rescue mission resulting from a potentially implausible plot point! Unlikely to be completed, I'm afraid.
1. Chapter 1

_The majestic queen of the O.Z.  
had two lovely daughters she.  
One to darkness, she be drawn,  
and one to light, she be shown.  
Double eclipse, it is foreseen.  
Light meets dark, and the stone is between,  
but only one and one alone  
shall hold the emerald and take the throne._

She was pulled roughly out of the channel of green light, and saw the wizened face of the Wicked Witch, grimacing and mouthing curses. She was standing in the dark cave, stumbling backwards as the old crone reached forward. DG had come back; her sister was holding her hand, gripping it tightly. Blinking in fear, she whispered, "Hold on." She repeated it again, desperate. The Witch called to her, and her body tried to respond. Louder, she said, pleading, "Hold on." She felt DG's hand squeeze her own.

The Witch was gone, leaving a puddle of viscous black muck, dripping off the pedestal. Azkadellia blinked again; felt her knees go weak. Her sister tugged on her hand, pulling her round to face her. Azkadellia watched numbly as DG took a step back and pulled her arms out. She knew that this was her sister, but the face was wrong; old, weathered by a different air. Then the face snapped into focus, a figure banished into a cold tomb by the clap of a hand. A child murdered in her sleep. Azkadellia blinked again, and tentatively extended her arms before stepping forward into a hug.

DG suddenly pulled out of the hug, but Azkadellia kept hold of her arm, needing the contact with reality. Light started to appear from behind the moon, and the prophecy that had dominated her life sprang to the front of her mind. Somehow DG had managed to surmount it.

The moment was soon broken and then DG was tugging at her arm, speaking. Azkadellia looked at her uncomprehendingly for a long moment and then heard the words her sister was repeating. "Our parents, Az. Where are they?"

Gone, she wanted to say; imprisoned in a golden saucer. Then she remembered seeing her mother surrounded by longcoats, the Witch showing her the death of hope in her mother's face. "They're in the throne room."

DG laughed, such a clear, pure sound. "Well, lead the way, sister dear."

She knew the way. Her feet had walked it many times. She pushed the heavy door inwards, and stepped through. She hesitated as her father gently pushed her mother behind him, stepping forward to confront the threat. She flinched slightly at the fear in her eyes, and then vividly remembered summoning his shrunken form and clapping him into another dimension. She tried to smile, but it flickered and was gone as her mother stepped back towards the window.

"My Azkadellia." Her mother's voice was questioning.

"Mother." She tried again to smile.

"Is it really you?" said her mother.

Azkadellia looked up, risking a glance. Her mother's face was nervous, a mix of emotions that she could not identify. Her father stepped forward, blocking her path, and pressed a light kiss to the top of her brow. It felt real. She whispered, tentatively, "The Witch is gone?" Nothing happened. "It's over?"

DG stepped through the door, and her mother gave a short gasp of longing. "DG…"

Azkadellia watched her sister dash forward madly into their mother's arms. She heard her father say, "Welcome home." She seconded that with all her heart; to see DG alive and well was a blessing beyond all counting.

Her vision blurred momentarily; her mother was standing alone in a field, whipped by rain. Lost. Something was pushing her towards her mother. She almost resisted, but there was no force left in her. Her vision blurred again, and for a second she felt her father's arm reaching around her to touch DG's shoulder, and she was looking at her mother. The four of them, together again.

The perspective was wrong; she could see above her mother's head. Her surroundings shifted again. Her mother's lavender eyes were wet with tears, filled with a bleak hopelessness. If she clapped her hands, perhaps this would all disappear again.

She was pulled out of the vision as DG wriggled away, but she tamed her curiosity, looking at her mother. Her mother's eyes followed DG, filled with warmth. Ahamo nudged her and pointed to the suns, as light started to race down the valleys towards the tower. He said softly, "Double eclipse, it is foreseen."

She could not face him, and so stared at the sun instead, ignoring the noises of DG's companions. She squinted in the light, and felt the light chasing something out of her. She held the balcony railing in a death grip, afraid to fall. DG was saying something, but she could not decipher the words. Then DG's voice was moving away. She half-turned, and saw three men standing close to the door. DG's companions from before.

Something caught in her chest and she turned back to the sun quickly. She recognized one of them; she had seen him lying on a mattress, blood spilling from his head. Another was a lion-man, one of the slave-race that she had created. She remembered ordering that they be dragged to the tower from their forest homes. She remembered ordering them to take out his brain. She remembered no more.

* * *

Wyatt Cain looked at DG and smiled genuinely as she said, "This is the O.Z. I remember." There was a lot of work to do, but for the first time in a long time, he genuinely believed that something could be done, that the O.Z. could be fixed. 

He looked at the Queen, and nodded his head respectfully. "Your Majesty, fighting continues on the ground between the longcoats and the rebels."

She looked at him, as if over a great distance. "You are quite correct, Mr. …?"

"My apologies, Your Majesty. Cain, Wyatt Cain."

She nodded regally, and then started out of the room, accompanied by the Prince Consort. "We will lend our support. These longcoats must be disbanded as soon as possible." Just before exiting, she turned and looked over at Azkadellia. "Azkadellia, I think it would be best if you were to remain here for the moment, to avoid any ... confusion. I will send someone for you when matters are calmer."

Glitch looked at her sharply and then jumped forward fluidly to take the vanguard. Cain smirked at the zipperhead's antics, and motioned for the others to leave as well. Raw and Toto rapidly complied, but DG had turned back to look at the suns. He said, sharply, "DG! Come on, there are still things to do, and we'll need your magic. I don't want to find out that my son has been chopped up in the final stages of the battle."

DG stepped towards him, a fierce grin on her face. "Of course – happy to help! Let's go and sort out those longcoats, Cain."

He bared his teeth and ushered her out of the door. Just before closing the door he looked round. Azkadellia had slipped to the floor, her back supported by the balcony railing. He squinted, and thought that her eyes were closed. His face hardened, and he spat on the floor in disgust before closing the door and going out to finish off the battle.


	2. Chapter 2

Jeb Cain curled his lip and looked up at the tower. The green beam of light piercing the dark sky had flickered, but was now as strong as before, and there were no signs that his father's crazy mission had succeeded. A group of twenty men moved up towards his position on the ridge. The leader of them extended his hand. "Earl Marshall, Northern Guilds. Sorry, we're a little late to the party. I hear you're in charge."

Jeb grinned broadly, without humour. "Jeb Cain. Pleased to see you. We're pushing at the longcoats down here, but I'd like to send some people into the tower. You can get in through those ducts there, to check on the situation there. We have a team in, doing some sabotage, but they could use backup, and I can't spare anyone here."

Marshall nodded. "Pleased to assist."

He gestured, and his small troop set off at a jog. Jeb turned his attention back to the valley floor. The rebels had hit hard and the longcoats outside the castle were in disarray. With a bit of luck, they would soon have the field.

Marshall's team were soon inside the castle, and it was clear that the sabotage team had been working overtime. Yellow-clad Alchemists were scurrying about, accompanied by the occasional longcoat. Marshall ambushed one, and after a few judicious punches had the general layout of the tower. The best way to kill a snake was to lop off its head, and so Marshall headed for the throne rooms at the top, leaving ten men to guard the duct area, and to look to freeing any prisoners.

They were soon lost, and there were no longcoats or Alchemists on the higher levels. This was rather odd, but Marshall decided not to worry about it too much. Suddenly, the entire building shuddered, and a background hum stopped. Marshall's men were all well-trained by long practice, and they remained alert, and continued their search.

* * *

Unused to having control of her body, Azkadellia sat on the floor against the balcony, unmoving. She was not remembering, concentrating on breathing. Her mother had said that she would send someone. She winced involuntarily, and then she was seeing her mother and father reunited, less than an hour before. She had fought for that, tried to persuade the Witch that it was fitting that they should be together there, at the end. Even then, though, the Witch had been right. Her mother had said, "I am not your mother." Her father had said, "Our daughter is really gone?"

Azkadellia felt her hands twitch in anger, but it disappeared rapidly. Her face brightened slightly. The Witch was gone, perhaps the rage had all belonged to her. Her mother would send someone. She had called her _My Azkadellia_.

The great door was pushed open with a loud crash and a group of men spilled into the room. They were clearly not longcoats, so they had to be resistance fighters. Earl Marshall strode forward fearlessly, his gun pointed towards Azkadellia. She tried to smile tentatively, but it faded quickly.

Marshall laughed, a short, sharp bark. "Well, lads, looks like the sabotage crew did their job."

He slapped her hard enough to push her face into the wall. Marshall grinned again. "And I'd guess this is that emerald that you were so keen on finding."

He grabbed the emerald and pulled sharply, snapping the metal chain. Azkadellia was pulled forward and reached forward to catch herself. Marshall jumped slightly, and the other men all tightened their holds on their weapons. Trying to cover his fear, Marshall kicked her viciously in the gut.

She bit off her cry, and felt her magic leap to her command, pooling in her hand ready to throw this interloper out of the way. But the Witch was gone, and these were her family's allies. She trembled with the effort of not striking, until she was pushed face down to the floor and her hands were tied behind her back.

Marshall laughed roughly and said, "Come on, lads, I think we've got our prize. Smithson, Thomas, bring her."

The troop headed back down, which proved significantly faster than the ascent, and met their colleagues at the ducts, along with a handful of ragged looking fellows who were desperate to see the light again. Marshall decided that retreat was the order of the day, to secure the prisoner, and they hurried back out of the ducts.

The area outside was now deserted. By the sounds of it, the fighting had moved round to the other side of the tower, near the main doors, and a bit further away on the flatter plains. Marshall's group set a fast pace towards the woods; he had spotted something useful on coming, and he was keen to get back to the battle.

Finally, they came to a halt, and Azkadellia was dumped unceremoniously on the ground. She struggled to sit up, but was slapped back down. Then, Marshall grabbed her hair and pulled her head up. "You see that? You know what that is? You know how many good men you've trapped away in these things?" She was looking at one of the Tin Men that were now dotted around the O.Z. "I think we'll put you away in there until the battle is over. It'll keep you out of trouble."

She tried to reply, but her mouth was thick with blood. One of Marshall's men shouted, "Oi, boss, there's someone in here."

"Well, get him out of there then, quick!"

The Tin Man was opened up, and a dirty, blond-haired man stumbled out, wearing a dirty shirt and torn pants. He looked warily at Marshall's men and tensed.

Marshall laughed. "Calm down, man. We're setting you free. Victory is ours this day. And look who we've captured." He tugged on Azkadellia's head, and she looked up, failing to recognize her former general, Zero.

Zero started to laugh manically. He stepped forward unsteadily, and looked to Marshall, as if asking permission. Satisfied, he hit Azkadellia, hard, laughing all the while. Marshall dropped her hair and she slumped down, not quite aware of what was going on. Zero pushed her down, and then he was pulling at her chain-mail dress, ripping the stays at the back, pushing her into the dirt, striking her all the while. Marshall laughed harshly. "I can see you've got a grievance there, man. I think we could all use a break before we get back to the battle." The surrounding men gave a ragged cheer.

Azkadellia almost screamed once, but the focus on holding her magic in gave her something to hold on to. When she became fully aware once more, she found herself locked in the Tin Man, surrounded by cold metal with only a grimy window to see out of. She shivered with cold, and perhaps with something else.

From a distance, she became aware of full throated cheering. It would seem that the war was over.


	3. Chapter 3

Wyatt Cain took a moment to catch his breath, disguising it by tilting his hat back. There had been some fierce fighting in places, but a lot of the longcoats had fled or surrendered. Some had even switched sides when the Queen had appeared close to the front lines. That was fortunate, as the resistance had been severely outnumbered and outgunned.

He looked to his side, keeping a wary eye on DG. She and Ahamo were supporting the Queen, who was looking a little frail. On cue, it started to rain. For a brief moment after the eclipse, the sky had seemed clear, but dark stormclouds had quickly raced in. The Queen ran a hand across her forehead, and then visibly pulled herself together. She laid on a hand on DG's shoulder. "Just allow me to take a little more, DG."

DG nodded her assent, and then the Queen announced, her voice magically bolstered, "The field is ours. The forces of the Witch have been routed." A loud cheer rose from a thousand throats, and the resistance fighters turned to face the Royal Family. The Queen continued, "I thank you for your continued struggle through these dark times, and for your help in liberating me and my family from my prison."

DG turned to her mother and whispered something to her. The Queen nodded, and then DG disengaged and walked up to Cain. He watched her silently, and when her eyes flicked towards the tower he nodded and fell in behind. The Queen continued to speak, now relying on her unaugmented voice.

They entered the tower, by the front doors this time, and started up the interminable stairs. Eventually, DG started to chatter, a tad nervously, Cain thought. As they approached the throne room, DG said, "It's all over now, right? The O.Z. will get back to normal?"

Cain did not care to answer, and never had to reply, as at that moment, DG opened the door, and did not find her sister. "Where is she, Cain?"

He shrugged. "Who knows?" DG sent him a sharp glare, and he said, "What? Come on then, let's have a look through the rooms round here."

They started to hunt around, and Cain took a moment to look over the balcony, but there was no crowd directly below. DG quickly grew frustrated, and said, "She's not here, Cain. I can feel it." She waved her hand at him for emphasis. "I think I could find her anywhere, right now. And she's not here."

It was not really clear to Cain what she was referring to, but he nodded peaceably, and then picked up his pace as she dashed down the stairs. They were out of breath when they arrived back on the field. DG pushed through the crowd without paying attention. Cain glowered at anyone who looked up in protest.

Once at the Queen's side, DG whispered harshly, "She's gone, Mom. She's not in the castle."

The Queen jumped, with not a little fear, or so it seemed to Cain. "Gone? Are you sure?"

Cain tipped his hat respectfully. "Yes, ma'am. Not in the upper rooms, at any rate."

The Queen sighed, and muttered, "I don't have time for this right now."

DG stepped back as if she had been slapped. "What's that supposed to mean? Az is my sister."

The Queen looked alarmed and signaled DG to keep the volume down. "We have to make sure the O.Z. survives, DG. That is our priority. There is so much to do to rebuild the O.Z. Your sister should know this. She shouldn't have gone wandering off." She softened her tone. "Still, we have to find her, and quickly. It's too dangerous, especially with all of the resistance fighters around. We have to find her, preferably without involving too many of them. I don't think they would be particularly keen on that."

DG looked stubborn. "Tell them the truth."

Cain stepped up. "It's not quite that simple, kid. Some of these people have lost …"

"No, Cain. It is that simple."

He shut up; she had that particular look in her eyes, the one that brooked no opposition.

They did not find her until the next day. After a fruitless night's searching, the Queen finally asked the leaders of the resistance for assistance, and one grizzled warrior reluctantly stepped forward, and led the way into the forest. He struck Cain as a rather shifty sort, and so he kept a hand close to his gun at all times.

Cain immediately recognized the tin man as the one where he had imprisoned Zero. He grabbed DG's arm, stopping her dashing forward, and after looking to the Queen for permission, he stepped forward to open up the suit.

Azkadellia was inside, covered in mud and dirt from head to toe. He was expecting a reaction, but apart from some blinking in response to the daylight, her face remained blank. He stared at her for a moment; trying to catch a glimpse of someone behind those terrible eyes.

Then he stepped back and picked up her arm. At his tug, she stepped out, although he still saw no signs of awareness in her face. Out of the tin can, he could see that somewhere along the way she had lost the chain-mail outfit, leaving a rather torn and dirty slip. He stepped back again, keen to get away from her, leaving her arm to fall back to her side.

DG seemed shocked into silence, and the Queen reached out and took Ahamo's hand in a death grip. "Azkadellia?"

The woman in front of them seemed to jump at the Queen's voice, and a spark of life appeared in her eyes. Cain let out a breath that he did not realize he had been holding. Raw stumbled backwards and tripped over his own feet with a loud crash. Glitch whirled round and started fumbling around, pretending to help the Viewer get up.

"Mother?" The voice was full of hope.

The Queen seemed at a loss for words, but no one stepped in to fill the gap. "Oh, Azkadellia, what happened? We have to get you out of here."

"I was waiting. I could never get out."

Everyone seemed rather nonplussed by this answer. DG shook her head violently, and then dashed over to envelop her big sister in a hug. After a moment, Azkadellia seemed to relax into the hug. "DG. You're here?"

"Yes. Of course I'm here. Where else would I be?" DG's voice was brittle, and Cain was sure that she would burst into tears in a moment.

He looked over to the man who had led them here and said, "There was a man in here. Where is he?"

The man, Earl Marshall, blanched and stuttered, "We thought he was one of her prisoners. Let him go, didn't we. Haven't seen him since." Cain stared at him coldly, and his fingers curled into a fist. Next time, perhaps he would not be so merciful to Zero.

A thought struck him, and he looked back to Azkadellia, in time to see her look up to see Marshall. Her eyes fluttered shut for an instant, and then she gently pushed her sister away, her posture suddenly even more tired and defeated than before. There was no sign of the Emerald of the Eclipse. He looked to the Queen. "The Emerald."

She gasped. "Yes, the Emerald. Where is the Emerald?"

Azkadellia moved her hand up to rub her collarbone. "It's gone. Someone took it."

They all turned to look at Earl Marshall, and then Ahamo was walking forward, grabbing the man by his jacket. He looked as if he just needed a good excuse to beat Marshall into a pulp. Marshall struggled and then shouted, desperately, "He took it. The guy who was in the suit. He stole it. We meant to give it to you, ma'am. But he stole it."

Cain looked grimly at DG, and said, "Zero."


	4. Chapter 4

Cain leaned forward on his horse and peered forward through the blizzard. They were approaching a cliff side, and he hoped that they would find some shelter there, although the sudden onset of snow, combined with a chill wind, made it very difficult to see anything at all.

The white sky had darkened significantly before he found a suitable cave. Sighing with relief, he swung down off his horse and stepped inside. It was more a sheltered hollow, with enough room for the horses at the front, and an area at the back that looked comfortable enough. No animals at the moment either. He pursed his lips, nodded, and then guided his horse out of the blizzard.

The next step was to look for some firewood. Pulling his hood tight about his head, he headed outside. Azkadellia had dismounted, but was standing still, with the reins loose in her hand. Her face was hidden by a thick shawl.

Luck was with him, and he quickly found a stock of dry wood that was not too damp. He passed Azkadellia, still outside, on his way back, and once he had dumped the wood on the floor close to the cave mouth he turned round and looked. She was stroking the horse's neck, looking away. The horse looked cold.

Irritated, he shouted across the wind, "What are you doing? Bring the horse in. Even if you're stupid enough to stand outside, don't take it out on the horse."

He turned away and busied himself with setting up the fire. A few minutes later, he heard her lead the horse in and set about unsaddling and filling their feed bags. He had no luck starting the fire, and spent a few fruitless minutes with his flint and steel, but his char had gotten wet during the blizzard and would take a while to dry out. He cursed softly, and looked over at Azkadellia, who was now watching him warily. He snapped, "You have a go then."

She jumped, the motion amplified by her shawl, and then came over. He sneered, ready to offer his fire-making kit, but instead she just kneeled by the wood and extended her hand. A moment later a small flame appeared in the centre, and took hold. He pushed his hands forward immediately, desperate for a shred of warmth, and then looked up at her. She was watching him again, but he could not decipher the expression. "Thanks." He knew he sounded churlish.

After she had sat down and removed her shawl, he hopped up to get some dinner ready. It was a simple stew, but at least it was hot. He watched her as he ate. She knew he was watching, and she kept her face focused on her bowl, although he kept catching her eyes flick towards the depth of the cave. By now it was dark outside, and the firelight danced eerily on the walls. When it caught her face, he could see the green bruise that covered one side. When they had started their journey, two days ago, she had been moving gingerly, and he had suspected a broken rib, but she had said nothing, and seemed to be moving without discomfort now.

They were on their way to the Northern Island, to the palace encased in ice. The Queen and Ahamo had decided that it would be best to keep Azkadellia away from any trouble, at least until the O.Z. was back in control. When they had announced that she should go to the Northern Island for the moment, DG had raged at them, saying that they were abandoning her. The Queen had looked stretched, and ill, but then rallied, saying that, in any case, DG had to travel around the O.Z. to refresh the magic. Just as she had brought flowers back to the Fields of the Papay, and restored Finaqua, there were many places that would benefit from her magical touch. DG had stuttered, looking for a complaint, but Azkadellia had then spoken, saying that of course she must go to the Northern Island, and that of course DG had to go and heal the O.Z. DG had given in with ill grace, but had then insisted that Cain act as Azkadellia's escort: she would trust no one else with the job. She had looked at him long and hard, to make sure that he understood that she would brook no harm coming to her sister.

And so here they were, two days later, caught in a blizzard. In only a few days he would be back with DG and the others, doing something constructive to rebuild his home.

* * *

The Ice Palace looked just as forbidding as his memory of it. They entered through the main door, ducking under shards of ice. The great hall was cold, and Cain decided that he would be happy to leave as soon as possible. They found the kitchens, and a long-forgotten store of frozen supplies. Azkadellia had used her magic to thaw out some meat and vegetables and he had made a hearty dinner for both of them. In a fit of whimsy, he decided to sleep in the royal bedroom, although the bed was as cold and unyielding as the cave floor had been the previous night.

The next morning, it took him a while to find her. She was standing in the broken window in what had been DG's bedroom, staring out over the great ice lake. He called to her, and she came over silently, taking the apple he offered for breakfast.

"I'm going now. I'll be taking the road back, and I'll pass on the Queen's message to the people of Northwood. If they don't deliver any food, send the Queen a message."

She nodded gravely. "Thank you, Mr. Cain."

He looked at her bruised face, and felt his irritation bubbling up. "I'm sure that DG would appreciate a letter."

He left shortly after, and rode off quickly, hoping that he would never have to return to these frozen wastes.


	5. Chapter 5

The quill scratched slowly over the paper.

_Dear DG, _

_I hope that you are well, and that you have managed to get some rest before setting off round the O.Z. I arrived safely at the Northern Island a couple of days ago. It is very cold here, so cold that I can hardly move my hands to write this letter! I am afraid that I have been having trouble making fire. Yesterday, my fire got out of control and the kitchen table set on fire … _

The quill stopped, and the author of the letter read it over and then crumpled up the sheet.

_Dear DG, _

_I hope that you are well, and that you have managed to get some rest before starting off your journey round the O.Z. _

_I have been learning how to cook. It is more difficult than I had thought, although there are several useful books in the library. The stock of food here is a little limited at the moment – only that which was left after Mother froze the palace. Yesterday, I tried to make an omelette, but it was mostly burned by the time I finished. I must admit to being a little hungry at the moment. Still that was an improvement on the day before, when I think I nearly poisoned myself! _

The quill stopped again, and the writer dropped her head into her hands. She started on a fresh sheet the next day.

_Dear DG, _

_I hope that you are well, and that you have managed to get some rest before starting off your journey round the O.Z. There is plenty of food here as well, and so I have been eating well. _

_The journey here was fine, although the weather was very bad. I think I have an injury in my stomach from before, but it is not hurting as much now. _

A new sheet.

_Dear DG, _

_I hope that you are well, and that you have managed to get some rest before starting off your journey round the O.Z. The journey here was fine, although the weather was very bad. We were caught in a blizzard, and had to stay in a cave overnight. I must admit that I was terrified, but once we were inside, it was not so bad. I was able to start a fire… _

The paper was torn in two.

_Dear DG, _

_I hope that you are well, and that you have managed to get some rest before starting off your journey round the O.Z. The journey here was fine, although the weather was very bad. I am not really sure what to write, as I know almost nothing about the person you are today. I have never been to the Other Side, but from the stories that Father used to tell us before, it is very different to the O.Z. I hope that you do not miss it too much. I would also be interested to hear about your travels in the O.Z. both recently and currently. I can't remember where you are visiting first. I hope that Mother and Tutor are helping you with your magic. If you haven't used it at all in the last fifteen years I suppose it will be difficult to do what you need to do. I guess you will need to practice a lot if you are to reverse a lot of the damage that I caused. _

Azkadellia growled and stalked away from her writing table. She started again the next day.

_Dear DG, _

_I hope that you are well, and that you have managed to get some rest before starting off your journey round the O.Z. The journey here was fine, although the weather was very bad. We were caught in a blizzard. _

_I have been eating well. It is very quiet here, with only the howling wind for company. I hope that you will be able to visit during your tour of the O.Z. It has only been a few days and yet already I feel very lonely. There's no one to talk to. At least before, there was the Witch _

Azkadellia clenched her fist and snapped the quill. She took up all of the unfinished letters and threw them on to the small, carefully controlled fire in the hearth.

* * *

DG looked extremely surprised when the letter arrived, by messenger crow. The Queen let Glitch explain the principle to her, and then insisted that she read them all the letter. DG skimmed it first, and then started reading.

"_Dear DG, _

_I hope that you are well, and that you have managed to get some rest before starting off your journey round the O.Z. I arrived safely at the Northern Island a few days ago. It is very cold here, as you may imagine, although Mr. Cain made sure to leave a good stock of firewood. Please give him my thanks for his assistance when you see him next. _

_Please give my greetings to our parents, _

_Your sister, _

_Azkadellia _

_PS My apologies for the delay in sending this; it took me some time to locate a crow." _

DG stopped. "Well, that was short." She glanced over at Cain, and said, over formally, "Thank you, Mr. Cain."

Then she scowled at her mother. "She should have come with us."

The Queen sighed. "We've already been through this, DG, darling. Mr. Cain agrees with our assessment, no?"

Cain nodded sparely. DG shook her head and walked away. After a nod from the Queen, Cain followed quickly.

"DG?"

She tensed up and then turned to face him. "It's all too much, you know, Cain. I can't do these things. It's all too much. In like, a week, I've gone from a nobody to a princess with a kingdom that's been in ruin for ten years, new parents, a crazy sister…. I don't know what to do."

* * *

A crow flew in through the broken window and settled beside the woman who was staring regally out over the frozen lake. She removed the letter, and thanked the crow seriously. 

_Dear Az, _

_Thank you for your letter. I was so surprised to have the crow arrive with the letter. Back in Kansas, we don't have anything like that. We talk by telephone, or else letters are delivered by people. Actually, people don't really send letters that much. I'm not used to this quill and ink business either, so don't mind my poor handwriting. _

_The O.Z. is pretty strange for me. If I hadn't bumped into Glitch, Cain and Raw at the beginning, God only knows what would have happened to me! Without them, there's no way I would have got past the Fields of the Papay. We're headed that way at the moment, actually. Mother wants me to try getting the rest of the trees to bloom. I got one to bloom at one point during my journey. At the moment, we haven't actually got very far from Central City. There are a lot of places to stop at, and a lot of the farmland is in poor condition. Soon, we should be arriving in Milltown, the robot town. It was pretty creepy when I was there before. I don't quite understand their role in the local area, and the local humans (!) who are still around here won't say much. _

_I've been doing a little bit of magic every now and then, and Tutor and Mother have both been helping me as much as they can, but I find it pretty tough to actually **do **stuff. I can react to things happening, but can't really create. The only time I can really channel the magic is when I think of you helping me make a doll spin when we were kids – do you remember that day? Do you have any idea how I can get a lot of the trees to bloom in the Fields of the Papay? I know that I managed to get one to do so only on pain of death, and I have no clue how I did it. _

_The other thing that I am worrying about a lot is Glitch's brain. The doctor who took it out is dead, and apparently no-one has any experience at this kind of thing. Cain told me that in the old days, they would just throw the brains away. I was so angry with Mother for allowing this to be used as a punishment, but she said that it had always been done, and when I told her about the methods we use in Kansas for dealing with the worst type of criminals, she said that she thought that lobotomizing people was better than killing them. I don't really know what to think of that. Actually, we've been arguing quite a lot, about all kinds of things. _

_A lot of my childhood memories of the O.Z. have come back. Just today we were riding along a path, and I remembered that we had traveled along there in a carriage once. I'm not sure where we were going, but as I recall, we stopped for lunch, and I immediately dashed out. You followed me, because no-one else was paying attention. I don't really understand why that was. Anyway, I remember finding a river in a copse of trees. I hid behind one of the trees, and you came running along and fell right into the river! Do you remember? _

_Anyway, it is late now, so I will send this off. I await your response eagerly. Also, Mother and Father say that they will write to you soon. I promise to visit as soon as possible. _

_Love, _

_ DG  
_


	6. Chapter 6

Azkadellia's days quickly fell into a rather tedious routine. She would wake up, make breakfast, take a short walk in the fresh air to ensure healthiness, and then settle down in the well-stocked library to work. She spent hours preparing letters to send to DG, full of information on the regions that DG was visiting, discourses on political histories, farming practices, anything she could find that might be of use. Perhaps her most useful contribution had been to come up with a procedure to restore Ambrose's brain. Apparently DG had carried it out in the tower, and he was now whole again. The two sisters kept up a very lively correspondence, each writing nearly every day. In the evening, she would spend time preparing dinner. It had taken a while, but now she could make passable dishes, and had even come to enjoy the process.

Her routine was disturbed a little when she was forced to admit something she had been denying steadfastly: she was pregnant. New to having complete control over her own body, she had not been in tune enough with its rhythms and so the early warning symptoms had been ignored. When the baby started to move she had to face up to the facts. Occasionally, she wondered who the father might be, but her memories of the assault by the resistance fighters was rather hazy. The library had a couple of books with rather sparse information about the childbirth process, and what little information there was made Azkadellia rather more nervous that she had been before.

* * *

One annual and seven days after escorting Azkadellia to the Northern Island, Cain found himself on the road back, this time with the whole Royal Family in tow. DG had been insistent that they visit, but the first tour of the O.Z. by the new regime had taken a long time. Their visit now was low key, or as low key as was possible for the Royal Family. They were traveling with only a small complement of guards and servants, and none of the courtiers that had sprouted from the woodwork in the aftermath of the Sorceress' fall from grace.

It had been a good tour, and DG had gone a long way to sorting out some of the problems they had encountered, although many still remained. Cain had been very impressed with her diligence; she had taken to the O.Z. like a duck to water, and even seemed to relish solving the problems. She now seemed very excited about the prospect of seeing Azkadellia again, although he rather thought she was the only one. The Royal Family had announced Azkadellia's possession, but acceptance of the statement had been mixed. Keeping the former Sorceress out of sight seemed to keep her out of the minds of the people for the moment.

The ice covering the palace had disappeared in many places, showing a fine architecture of Ancient design. Cain glanced round at the others as they rode up to the door, and took the lead. Officially, he was now the Captain of the Royal Guard. Solemnly, he knocked three times.

A few seconds later, the door opened; Azkadellia stood on the other side, looking cold and imposing in a long, pale-blue gown. He saw her mouth quiver as if trying to smile, and then she inclined her head in respect. "Mr. Cain, Mother, Father. Welcome." The smile appeared more firmly. "DG!"

DG was not one to stand on ceremony, even after a year as a princess, and she dashed forward, pushing Cain out of the way to pull her sister into a hug. Cain watched suspiciously, but Azkadellia seemed to lose some of her stiffness and made no sudden moves.

She stepped away from DG and said, "Please, this way. I have some food prepared, although perhaps not enough for everyone." She gestured at the retinue.

Cain felt rather honoured to be included in the close family dinner that evening; he and Ambrose were there in addition to the Queen, Ahamo and the two Princesses. Apparently, Azkadellia had prepared the entire meal beforehand, and she had even served it with gusto. The Queen did not look particularly happy at seeing her daughter acting as a serving maid, and had harrumphed slightly as Azkadellia was serving Cain. Her hand had trembled for a moment.

The conversation was already rather stilted, but the atmosphere was completely disrupted by a thin, reedy wail. Cain was immediately on the alert, although it had sounded more like a baby's cry than anything dangerous. Looking around, he saw surprise on all faces, except for that of Azkadellia, who looked like a child caught in some wrongdoing. The wail sounded again, and Azkadellia jumped to her feet abruptly, drawing attention. "I'll just get dessert, shall I?" She walked out of the room, clearly trying not to hurry.

They heard a plate thump onto a table, but no more wails. DG stood up, and shouted, "I'll give you a hand." Cain saw the Queen wince and shake her head slightly.

DG pulled open the door to the next room, and then yelped. "Oh. My. God. Azkadellia. You didn't say anything. Why didn't you say anything?" DG turned to look back to her parents. "Az has a baby."

Azkadellia had, rather reluctantly, introduced her three month old daughter, called Esmeralda, to the family. The surprise took a while to wear off. As far as Cain knew, no-one knew who the father was. He had asked DG, but she had just said that her mother had asked but received no clear answer. DG was quite upset over the whole matter, and rather angry with her sister, as Azkadellia had clearly never mentioned the matter in any of her letters.

The Queen, of a more practical bent, had pulled Cain into an impromptu pow-wow with Ahamo and asked him to make sure that the staff and guardsmen did not catch a glimpse of the baby for the moment.

* * *

"You can't do that, Mother!" Cain easily recognized DG's voice. She was obviously arguing with the Queen again. Obviously filial respect was not in demand on the Other Side.

"If she argues, or shows any concern, then I'll reconsider. But think about it DG. She's not affectionate, as far as I can see. Considering the child's past, I think that there is certainly resentment there."

He heard no further argument from DG, and then knocked on the door sharply, ready to give his report on the preparations for their departure, the next day.

* * *

The Queen stood in the middle of the room, regal, poised, with her arms crossed lightly in front of her. She was looking down her nose at Azkadellia, who was standing by the crib close to the wall, stroking Esmeralda's cheek.

"Azkadellia, your father and I have been thinking about this for a while, and … look at me, please, Azkadellia."

Azkadellia turned quickly and straightened, mimicking her mother's pose.

"Well, Azkadellia, your father and I have been thinking, and, well, we think it would be for the best if we took Esmeralda with us back to Central City. We will announce that she is our daughter – no-one will question us, I think, and none of the guardsmen or staff have seen the baby. That way, she can be brought up in the Central City, free of problems that might arise if people know that she is your daughter. And she can have a father."

Cain saw a flash of something hard in the Princess' eyes, but then she looked down to the floor. "I suppose … I suppose that you are correct. Of course, it will be better for her than remaining here alone."

The Queen threw a significant glance towards DG, who looked away. Azkadellia lifted a hand to rub at her upper lip. "You will raise her as your own?"

The Queen nodded. "Of course. Ahamo?"

He looked at Azkadellia, seemingly embarrassed. "Of course. And we will come to visit, and bring her, every now and then."

Azkadellia smiled, "Oh well. What can I possibly offer in comparison. Of course Esmeralda should go with you."

They left the next morning. Azkadellia had taken her daughter, no, sister and held her for a long moment and then passed her over to the Queen. The baby was hidden away from the retinue, to appear at a suitable moment. Cain looked back as they left, but the doors to the ice palace had closed almost immediately and the place was quiet and cold.


	7. Chapter 7

Azkadellia closed the large doors with a simple gesture, allowing her magic to do the work, and then hurried to the uppermost tower window to watch the Royal Family leave. Aloud, she said, "Of course Mother is right. There is nothing here for a child." Her stomach roiled, and she felt a certain hot pressure behind her eyes, but ignored it to keep watching, hoping that she was not falling ill. It was cold enough in the mountains that being ill was a serious problem.

Something flashed behind her, but she did not turn. Instead she said, "You're not supposed to be here either. Go away." A fluid creature apparently consisting of swirls of blue and white light moved forward, shifting from an homunculus shape to something approaching a cat that wrapped itself around her legs soundlessly. It looked as if it should have been purring, although it made no sound at all.

Azkadellia ignored it until the last horse had disappeared from view, and then she dropped a hand to caress its head, without looking down. Speaking out to the window, she said, "I did not mean to create you again. Go away."

There was no force to her words, and the cat moved away, shifting form to become a dancing ball of light, hanging in mid air. It pulsed, grabbing her attention, and then started to move. In spite of herself, she smiled slightly, although her smile quickly disappeared, and she began to follow.

The will'o the wisp floated down to the library, and hovered in front of a map hung up on one wall. It pulsed a few more times, and then sank to the floor, disappearing into a corner. Azkadellia looked at the map, but she already understood what her magical servant was trying to say. The time was now for action. She would prove her worthiness as a member of the Royal Family.

She quickly adopted a new routine. Her correspondence with DG was now less frequent, perhaps once a week, but she still made sure to provide her sister with as much information as possible about the places and people she visited. In return, DG often wrote about her comings and goings, and the family. Azkadellia devoured every crumb of information about Esmeralda.

The time left vacant by this was now filled with longer journeys outside the palace, surveying the area, often using magic to travel faster than her feet would permit. There were few inhabitants in this region, and the closest real settlement was the town of Northwood, a half day's ride away on the road. At first, she patrolled the area close to the palace, helping out animals and plants that needed it, trying to encourage things to grow in the wilderness. Later, she started to frequent the area around Northwood. At first she just watched, silently, hidden by a cloak of magic, but as she grew confident in her understanding of what was needed, she would do her best to fill their needs: protecting a crop from frost here, adding a little magical spice to a cup of tea to bolster the drinker against pneumonia.

Once, she encountered a wyvern, in the low mountains to the north of the palace. It had been just as surprised as she, but then it had dashed forward to attack, slashing her with its poisoned tail before she could escape. She made it back to the palace but she needed her homunculus to bandage it properly. The little magical creature was delighted, and took an obscene pleasure in making dinner as well. Azkadellia was too tired that day to protest.

* * *

The Royal Family returned a year later, again with a limited number of hangers-on, and stayed for a week. Just like Ambrose, Cain was now considered a close advisor and personal friend, and was treated as one of the family. The Queen has tasked him during this visit with keeping a particular eye on Esmeralda, who was quite the adorable little baby. She had been a little overwhelmed by the ice palace on arrival, especially the large entrance hall, but had rapidly started crawling around fearlessly.

At her re-introduction to her 'sister' Azkadellia, she had been a little apprehensive about this new person. Azkadellia had stepped forward eagerly to pick the child up, but Esmeralda had flinched back and started to cry. Cain saw the former Sorceress' brow crease, but her face was hidden. She had quickly put Esmeralda back down, and continued welcoming the rest of the guests.

Esmeralda soon became used to this new face, and, after the Queen gave permission, Azkadellia would take the little child with her on walks nearby when the weather permitted, and if Esmeralda was suitably wrapped up.

To Cain's surprise, the week in the frozen north was passable. The area was pleasant enough, and there were fewer storms this time round. On the fifth day, he headed out for a stroll with Ahamo. They found a small brook cutting through the snow in a wooded copse, and sat down pretending to fish over lunch. To his surprise, over the past two years, Cain had taken a liking to the Othersider, especially considering how they had first met. As usual on their little outings, they caught no fish, and started to walk back to the castle before it started getting dark.

As they neared the edge of the small forest, they caught up with Azkadellia, pushing Esmeralda in a rather elaborate pram. Cain could hear her talking seriously to the infant, apparently able to understand Esmeralda's customary babble. Ahamo looked at Cain and put a finger to his lips, before creeping up behind his daughter. He clapped his gloved hands down on her shoulders, whispering, "Boo." Abruptly he was flying backwards through the air to land in a heap at the bottom of a tree.

Azkadellia whirled round, her long black braid whipping through the air. She quickly took in the scene, and lifted her hand to her mouth in horror. "Daddy … I'm so sorry. I, er, I didn't know it was you."

Ahamo sat up and brushed off his sleeves ostentatiously, before flashing a bright smile at his daughter and laughing heartily. "No harm done, dear. My fault for trying to sneak up on you." He moved too quickly, picking up a handful of snow and forming a snowball. Azkadellia moved too slowly and was caught directly in the stomach. She looked down in surprise, and then gave a genuine smile, which transformed her face. She moved as if to pick up some snow, but instead pointed a finger at the branch just above Ahamo. It shook and tipped snow all over the Othersider. The situation quickly degenerated, until even Cain was dragged into the battle.

Eventually, the sky darkened appreciably. Ahamo shook his head ruefully and held up his hands in surrender. "Alright, you win, Azkadellia. We'd better get back, or your Mom will go spare." Azkadellia agreed immediately and set a fast pace back to the ice palace.

* * *

The next visit was a year later. Esmeralda was now a tot who had great fun racing round the great expanses of the ice palace. Cain was quite fond of her, although he did not see her too often as there had been unrest in the western part of the kingdom that had eaten up a lot of his time. Ahamo had told him that she was a lot like DG had been as a child, which made him smile. He had not seen too much of DG lately either; she was spending a lot of time at the court in Central City, which was as large now as it had ever been.

There weren't any snowball fights this time around, although he and Ahamo managed to get a couple of fishing trips fitted in. Both times, they walked back with Azkadellia and Esmeralda, who seemed to be enjoying each other's company. On the last day, he headed out alone, as Ahamo had promised to make an ice sculpture for DG. He and Azkadellia were walking back silently when Esmeralda dashed off. They both reacted immediately, but the little two-year old tripped over a rock hidden just below the snow. She fell and started bawling. Azkadellia picked her up, and tried to comfort her, whilst checking for injuries. There were no apparent injuries; the child was just upset.

Back at the castle, when they entered the family room, Esmeralda started to struggle, and Azkadellia rapidly put her down.

Esmeralda ran over to the Queen, crying, "Mommy. Mommy."

The Queen looked down and picked up the child in a warm hug. "Oh, Esmeralda, don't cry. Don't worry; everything is fine."

She looked over at Cain and Azkadellia questioningly. Cain turned to let Azkadellia answer, and for a moment thought he saw a look of naked longing on her face. It disappeared quickly enough that Cain questioned whether it had really been there, and she said calmly, "Oh, she just tripped on a rock, Mother. There might be bruise, but nothing serious."


	8. Chapter 8

Apologies for the delay in posting - holiday period and then no regular internet connection. Should be more regular shortly!

* * *

The next year, at DG's insistence, Azkadellia was invited to leave the north and come down to Finaqua. It had been decided that a quiet journey, not drawing too much attention, would be for the best. Accordingly, Cain found himself riding up alone, with a second horse in tow. The way was quite familiar to him now, and the climate seemed a little milder this year.

Azkadellia greeted him warmly, and was already prepared to leave, although Cain insisted on having one night's sleep in the warmth of the palace before setting off again. The journey down was much more pleasant than their only other journey together, three years ago. This time the Princess was not silent; quite the opposite, in fact. She chattered like a child, seemingly excited by the most trivial things: a hawk hovering high in the sky, or the bright red berries of a holly bush.

On the third day, they passed through the outskirts of the Fields of the Papay. It had certainly changed from the dangerous wasteland that Cain had passed through with DG during their adventures to save the O.Z. Perhaps a third of the trees were in flower, although the majority still remained lifeless. Cain was sure that the Papay were present, although he did not catch sight of any.

Azkadellia rode up to one of the trees and plucked a flower from it. She breathed in the scent, and kept the flower close to her face. A rather lengthy silence ensued, until Cain grew impatient and guided his horse towards hers. "Your Highness?"

She blinked at him, and looked momentarily confused, before saying, "I'm sorry, Mr. Cain, I was just … remembering something." Cain frowned; her voice was rather sad, and not a little lost. Before he could say anything, she shook her head briskly, as a dog might throw off water, and said, brightening her tone, "I'm a little surprised though. From DG's letters it had sounded as if she had healed many more trees than this?"

"She did, when she came here four years ago. She wanted to heal them all, but she burned herself out. I think she keeps meaning to come back, but hasn't found the time yet."

"Oh." Azkadellia turned to look at the tree. "But they seem to be dying again." She reached out to stroke the bark.

"Perhaps the Witch wasn't responsible for the plague," Cain offered. He did not think she heard him though. Her attention was focused on the tree, and it seemed to perk into life. She smiled softly, and then moved towards a dead tree.

In a few moments, she had breathed new life into it, just as DG had done. "It is quite tiring. But this doesn't feel like the Witch's touch."

At Cain's insistence, they rode on soon after, but by the day's end they were camped outside the Fields. During the ride, he had noticed that the Princess was a little subdued, so as they sat savouring their stew, he decided to bite the bullet. "Do you want to talk about it?"

She looked confused, and he clarified, "Whatever's been on your mind since you took that flower."

"Oh." Her voice was soft. She did not speak for a long moment, and Cain was just preparing a new topic of conversation, when she spoke again. "I was just remembering when Xora brought me one of the newly flowered Papay fronds." She half smiled and looked away, off into the distance. "The Witch needed me to identify it – she didn't know the smell, of course. Still, I was able to give it to Mother before I lost control."

Cain saw her smile fade into a tired frown. "Who was Xora?"

"One of the mobats."

"What happened to them? I haven't seen any since the Witch disappeared."

Azkadellia continued to stare away into space. "They weren't really separate from the Witch. They were magical constructs – well, more like pieces of the Witch's magic given a separate life." She looked over at him, and her voice hardened slightly. "It's a very dangerous thing to do, especially if you give the constructs as much autonomy and life as the Witch did. It's one of the first things you learn not to do if you have magical abilities. You can lose control of your magic, but even worse, you have to use part of your soul, part of your personality, to give them life, and then you can lose that part, especially if the constructs are around for too long. That's what happened to the Witch, you know. Or if the construct is killed, it's like losing a part of yourself. Your hand."

Cain chewed on this for a moment. "So why do it? What's the benefit?"

He could have sworn he saw a light blush on her cheeks. "A trusty servant, who you know won't let you down. The Witch used them as company when she was trapped in that cave for five hundred years, to keep herself sane.  
Well, functional, at any rate."

She was enjoying the trip immensely. It was simply fantastic to leave the icy wastes, if even for a short while, and Cain was much better company than she remembered. Her memories of their first journey together were hazy and ill-formed, dominated by a remembered fear of a cave and a crushing sense of disappointment at having once more failed her family.

So far, the only blip had been when she had nearly given herself away regarding the magical constructs. That had all started when she had picked up the Papay flower. The scent had transported her back to one of the few times she had held clear control during the Witch's reign over her body. Xora had appeared, bearing a Papay frond as a gift from the hunt for DG. The Witch had needed her to identify the scent. By some means, she had kept control long enough to present the flower to her mother, trapped in the golden bowl. Of course, the Witch had managed to stop her saying anything useful. For a moment, she had thought she had managed to communicate with her, but as usual, her mother had repudiated her at the last.

In retrospect, it was clear that her mother had been aware of her predicament. Before she could dredge up the bitterness and despair that that discovery had originally filled her with, Mr. Cain had spoken. She was a little surprised that the trees were dying again, and the problem proved a suitably difficult one to keep her mind off memories. It would not do at all to be miserable on arriving at Finaqua; this was her reward, after all.

On the fourth day they crossed the crack in the O.Z. and had decided to press on to arrive at Finaqua to try to arrive before nightfall. As she should have expected, events conspired against them. The population had grown in this area, as harvests had become plentiful once more, and they had to pass through the outskirts of one new town. Unfortunately, those outskirts also held the local pub, and as the early evening was still reasonably sunny, many of the villagers were sitting outside. Azkadellia let Cain move between her and the crowd, and kept her head down.

He hailed the fellows easily, and was even recognized as one of the Queen's men by someone. Azkadellia's uneasy silence apparently due their attention, though, and several of them, former resistance men by the looks of it, recognized her. They were not very happy at the sight of the former Sorceress, and one man threw his bottle at her. His aim was rather bad, and so it missed her, but clouted her horse on the head. The horse duly reared in alarm, bucking Azkadellia off and onto the ground.

The villagers, emboldened by beer and fear, moved forward as a small mob, but Mr. Cain reacted quickly, putting himself and his horse directly in the villagers' path. Showing his gun did not slow them down, and neither did the horse. He was rather reluctant to use the gun, but that made the job more difficult, particularly when the villagers pulled him down and sent the horse racing off to join its companion.

Azkadellia took a moment to recover her senses, and then pulled herself to her feet. Even in that short time, Mr. Cain appeared to be in a bad way, with blood streaming from his face. He was still struggling, but the villagers clearly had the better of him, and some were turning towards her. Panicking, she thrust out her hand, throwing her magic forward to push them back, and reserving a little bit to keep Mr. Cain in place. Her gambit was a little too successful; her uncontrolled strike threw the villagers back into the wall of the pub and right through it. The wall also received some of the blast and the whole structure started to wobble precariously.

Azkadellia did not spare it another thought. Mother and DG would be furious if Mr. Cain were hurt, especially because of her. With another thought, she levitated his body, and hurried him away from the village, diving off the road and into the forest as soon as she could. On finding a suitable rest area, she released the spell, and looked over him. The blood on his head was from a long, shallow scratch, and was not too serious. The broken arm might prove more so. She did the best she could, and by that time, he was coming round. She rapidly explained the situation: he was injured, they were lost, they had no supplies, and the sun was going to set soon.

Mr. Cain was clearly still a little stunned, but he insisted that she go and look for the horses. Although she disagreed with his priorities, she set out to do so, and was pleasantly surprised to find that they had stayed close to the road, perhaps a mile from the village. She led them back to their impromptu campsite, and set about making camp.

Cain felt a lot better after eating. He was rather disappointed in his performance, and the whole affair had reawakened his irritation at being forced to nursemaid the author of so many of his afflictions. On top of all that, his arm was broken.

She had been quiet through the meal, and he was glad of that. At the end, she offered him a small tot of brandy, and said, nervously, "Mr. Cain, I'm so sorry about all this."

He wrinkled his nose, feeling unable to say anything. He grunted non-committally instead.

She continued on. "I think I healed most of the scratches you had, but I can't do anything about the broken arm at the moment. I'm afraid I don't remember how to regrow the bones, and I wouldn't want to do it wrong."

He waved his other arm in a shushing motion, and slugged down the brandy. "I'll take second watch. Go to sleep, Your Highness."

Her lips thinned, but then she said, "I've set a ward round the campsite. We can both sleep safely. And you need your rest more than I do, Mr. Cain, in any case." She looked away. "Mother will be furious. So will DG."

He laughed roughly, but then felt rather churlish. "You got me out of there, Your Highness. They'll both be happy to see me still alive." Neither of them said much more before going to sleep.

The next day, they rode hard, aiming to reach Finaqua as quickly as possible. His arm was sore, but she had set it reasonably well, even if she couldn't heal it completely. He felt rather guilty for his mood last night, and was gratified to see that with the smallest encouragement from him, she started chattering about everything and anything.

They made good time, and arrived at Finaqua just after lunchtime. Cain waved at the guards with his good arm, and they quickly led them through to the royal party, who received them in the welcoming hall. The Queen saw his arm immediately, and was shocked into silence. DG was left to ask the questions, agitated. Briefly, he recounted the story of their misfortunes, although he necessarily had to gloss over his rescue on account of his lack of concrete memory. The Queen was then sufficiently recovered to thank him, in that gracious way she had.

"My dear Mr. Cain, I don't know what we would do without you in this family. Please, ask, and it shall be given. We have a Viewer here who may be able to help with the arm. Or else, DG might like to have a look. I know that she has been practicing her healing skills."

"Shush, Mom. I'm nowhere near good enough yet."

The Queen smiled indulgently. "Don't be silly, dear. Now, Azkadellia, perhaps you can fill in some of the details?"

Azkadellia started to speak, haltingly, and described how she had repelled the villagers, and then dragged Cain away.

The Queen did not sound too happy at the end. "Well, I'm very glad that you managed to get out safely, along with Mr. Cain." She sighed. "Still, it will be very difficult to satisfy the villagers. I'm sure they already have a deputation on the way, claiming that the Witch is back, and up to her old tricks, and demanding your head."

Azkadellia looked suitably contrite, her head demurely lowered and her arms held behind her back. "I'm very sorry for the difficulties caused, Mother. It won't happen again."

The Queen snorted genteely. "I'm sure it won't. I'd hoped that the people would be forgetting about you, but this is hardly going to help."

Cain was then despatched off to the Viewer, called Kowli, apparently Raw's second cousin twice removed, who told him that the arm had been well set, and made short work of fixing the bone, before giving Cain notice that he should take it easy for a couple of days. Naturally enough this meant that he was invited to join the royal party.

On the whole, it was a very pleasant week. His main concern was scoping out the young man invited by DG to the gathering. Arran Duval was a man of noble blood, from one of the first families of Central City. He was a good boy, a couple of years younger than DG. Cain found him slightly annoying, as did Ahamo, but they had decided together that that was just their natural concern for DG showing through, and that there wasn't really anything wrong with him.

He also noticed that Azkadellia's vivacity during their journey down had withered. She was presenting a reasonable facsimile of sociability, which became sincere only when she was playing with Esmeralda, if he was any judge. Still, at the risk of sounding harsh, it was not his problem. He felt slightly different while escorting Azkadellia back to the Northern Island, as the journey, carried out in greater secrecy, was very tedious, with extremely limited conversation. He tried to get her to engage with him again, but she just told him that they should be concentrating on avoiding trouble. By the time they were back in the snowy wastes, he had given up, and was just looking forward to dropping of his troublesome charge.


	9. Chapter 9

Apologies for the delay - still no regular internet connection. Two longer chapters to make up for it...

* * *

Marek Pontis ran his cloth along the gun barrel one last time, before setting it to one side. His weapon was ready. Six rounds were loaded, and he had more in his belt pocket. One last check: his horse was loosely tethered to a tree, his backpack was well hidden under a mixture of brush and snow. He was ready to mount his attack on the palace. 

The people of his village, Northwood, lived in fear of the Wicked Witch who had been exiled to the Northern Island. They had to pay tribute to the Witch, in the form of regular food and provisions, with only the word of the Queen promising their safety. Everyone knew how much that would be worth in the event of trouble. None of them were prepared to do anything; they just grumbled and muttered over their beer. Marek, with all the wisdom that fourteen annuals bring, had decided that something must be done.

Thus prepared, he set off. Obviously the front door was not the appropriate way to enter, but he felt obliged to scope it out nonetheless. No sign of motion or potential problems there. The Witch had left earlier that morning. Rapid investigation revealed a number of unused rooms, with windows not too far from ground level. Obviously, he could not be sure exactly where the Witch would frequent, but he doubted that she would ever be found near the servants' quarters and the kitchens.

Accordingly, he had chosen a room on the floor above the kitchen, with a convenient ledge on which he could work at opening the window. The walls themselves were smooth, but he was a good climber, with the fearlessness of youth, and soon he was on the ledge, peering inside. The room looked rather dusty.

Working carefully, he was soon inside the palace. Nervously, he pulled his gun from its holster, and started to explore inside. He took care to keep his traces to a minimum, and was busy formulating a plan when he heard the unmistakable sound of the large front doors opening. Trying to be stealthy as possible, he crept to the balcony that overlooked the main hall, fear twisting his belly. Each beat of his heart sounded as loud as a drum, and he found himself wishing that he had never come here. He remembered the stories he had heard about the Witch's evil, and calmed his nerves as best he could.

There she was! She closed the doors carefully, and then turned. He saw the Witch's face for the first time. It was pale, framed by long, black hair. She was limping, and her skirts were ripped and caked with blood. It looked as if a snow tiger had swiped at her right leg, according to his woodscraft. Still, she walked proudly, seemingly ignoring the pain. He wondered idly if she had encountered the maneater that had been plaguing the region for the last few months. Perhaps she was responsible for driving him to thirst for human blood. That focused his attention back on the matter in hand. She passed underneath the stairs, heading towards the servants' areas.

After hearing a door click shut, he crept silently down the steps. His legs felt like jelly, but he pressed on, moving towards the door. He gently put his ear to it, and listened. Hearing nothing, he readied his gun, and slowly pushed on the handle. It turned soundlessly, and he slipped into the next room. It was empty.

He listened at the next door, and heard running water. This was it; this was what he had come for. He was not sure that he had the strength necessary to kick the door in and keep going, so he tried to turn the handle quickly and quietly, stepping through with his gun pointing forward. He shot before looking, two bullets pumped into the far wall. She was standing off to the side, away from the muzzle of his gun, and he whirled towards her, his breathing heavy in his ears.

She turned to face him, and some fell magic, that he registered only as a wave of blue light, swept towards him, snapping at him, pushing him backwards. He stumbled over his own feet and fell to the floor, pulling the trigger again, and again. The shots was wild, and the noise reverberated around the room.

She walked towards him, her arm raised in some arcane gesture, and he slithered backwards, trying to pull his feet up. She paused and looked at him keenly. "You're just a boy." She flexed her hand, and the light snapped back, too fast, into her body. He felt a weight on his chest lift, and he scrabbled to his feet, aiming his gun at her unsteadily. She smiled, and that made it all worse. He pulled the trigger again, but the shot was off, going into the wall a good five feet away from the Witch.

She jumped slightly, and he took a step back, towards the door. "I'm here to kill you, so that you can't hurt Northwood any more."

"You're the Pontis boy, aren't you?" His tongue felt like lead, and he said nothing. She smiled crookedly. "I'm sure they are worried sick by your absence, Marek. I should be going home if I were you."

She knew his name. She knew his family. He took another step back, and tried to control the trembling in his arms, tried to control the position of the gun muzzle. She turned her back on him, and sat down at the table, facing away. He aimed, and squeezed the trigger. Nothing happened. He squeezed the trigger again, hopelessly, and then dropped it on the floor and turned and ran, blindly, towards the front doors. He dragged them open and ran away as fast as he could.

He slumped to the ground when he arrived at his cache in the woods, trying to calm his breathing. She had not come after him, for which he was thankful. He wished now that he had kept hold of his gun. There should have been another bullet in it. And his dad would be furious at the loss.

* * *

Back in Northwood, he did not tell anyone of his little escapade; he was too scared that the villagers would worry that he was bringing an apocalypse on his head. However, he thought over the events very deeply, trying to create a new plan of attack. It was even more imperative now to get rid of the Witch.

That imperative was somewhat weakened later in the month when his dad, one of the local huntsmen, found the frozen dead body of a snow tiger that bore the same markings as the maneater had been reputed to wear. He pictured the scratches that the Witch had been carrying, and wondered.

Two weeks after that, he plucked up his courage once more, and ventured back to the palace, again in secret, again claiming the right to go on a small practice hunting trip. His dad had not yet realized that the gun was missing, and so Marek had not yet been grounded. The window he had broken previously had been repaired, but he searched a bit harder, and found a door that he could break into with his limited thieving skills.

He stepped across the threshold, and felt a momentary resistance in the air. He tensed, expecting a trap, but nothing happened after several seconds, and so he proceeded with due caution. He had managed to explore and identify several rooms before he heard the front doors opening. He made haste to hide in the kitchen, but ended up hiding under a table covered by a long tablecloth. Still, it afforded him some view of what was going on, by peeking underneath.

The Witch swept in, apparently unaware of his presence, and appeared to set about cooking, much to Marek's astonishment. It smelled like a boar stew, if he wasn't much mistaken. Then, she left the room. He stayed under the table for many long minutes, until impatience got the better of him. He emerged, and immediately saw that his gun had been put on the table he had been hiding under. Trembling, he picked it up and checked the chamber. There was one bullet in it, loaded, although the safety was on.

He tucked the gun in his belt, and left the room. The Witch was in the library, sitting at a table, writing. She did not appear to hear him open the door, and he waited in the doorway, searching for his courage.

Before he found it, she spoke, a rich voice, tinted with amusement. "Mr. Pontis, could you close the door, please. This room is a bit drafty. If you're going to try and shoot me, please get it over with, so that I can finish my day's business in good order."

He found his voice. "You killed the snow tiger." It was not quite a question.

"Hmmm."

"I, er, I'm not going to shoot you."

"I'm pleased to hear that, Mr. Pontis."

"Please don't do anything to my family, Miss. They don't have anything to do with my being here."

"Don't fret, Mr. Pontis, I know that they don't have anything to do with your various … adventures. Although if you feel obliged to enter the palace in the future, please try knocking."

He did not know how to answer that, and so said nothing. The Witch's pen started to scratch over her paper again. He stood uncomfortably, and then the Witch said, "Mr. Pontis, kindly stop looming in the doorway. Either find a book and read it, or leave."

Embarrassed, he shut the door and walked over to the shelves. The Witch said, "You might like the one just to your right, with the blue leather cover."

After that, he travelled to the palace whenever he could get away from Northwood for long enough, drawn by the promise of the books in the library, and by the mystery that was the Witch. After several visits, he plucked up the courage to eat some of the food that the Witch cooked, mindful of the stories of people being trapped after swallowing a mouthful of food. He was able to leave after that, though, and gradually his confidence grew, until he would even stay the night in a guest room, instead of camping half way to Northwood.

He did not pretend to understand the Witch's schedule. She was often absent when he arrived in the afternoon, but would arrive and spend some time preparing food, working in the library, and then eating food. Then, she would often spend more time writing, and finally spend a long moment staring into a bowl filled with water.

For a long time he would not ask questions, but when he managed to find the courage to so, he found out that she was writing letters to her sister, the Princess DG, doing research that her sister did not have the time or background to do. She explained to him the subject of a particular letter, and eventually he ended up having a rather detailed lecture every visit on the geography, or history, or political situation of various parts of the O.Z. It seemed that the world was an awful lot larger than Northwood. He had known this previously, but only in a rather vague way. Now, it took on a concrete extra dimension, and the desire to travel started to grow in him.

Eventually, he was confident enough to approach her on her nightly vigil over the water bowl. The surface of the water carried an image, distorted by the surface ripples, of a large bedroom, filled with plush furniture and with toys scattered about. A young girl with straight, black hair was seated near a bed, reading from a story book. The words could just about be heard.

"Who is it?"

"My…" The Witch looked over at him. "My little sister, Esmeralda. She's seven now." The Witch turned back to look at the scene, smiling fondly. "She's just learned how to turn the lights on and off using her magic, or at least she was doing that yesterday. She's picking it up much quicker than DG ever did."

Marek nodded, although even the idea of magic quite terrified him. "She's pretty."

"Yes, she is, isn't she." The smile was even broader.

"Actually, she looks a lot like you."

"Yes, well we _are_ sisters."

"How do you see her from afar? Where is she anyway? Why don't you go and visit? Shouldn't you be living with your family?"

The Witch laughed, lightly. "So many questions. Well, Esmeralda and the rest of the family live in Central City most of the annual. As to how I see her in the water, well, she has a teddy bear that I gave her just over an annual and a half ago, and I gave it a little spark of magic, so that I would always be able to see around it. And, my family comes to visit, every annual or so. Surely you must have noticed when they pass near Northwood?"

Marek nodded. "Aye, we have to find a bunch more food, and the road is always a muddy mess when they come tramping through with all of their high-falutin servants."

He gasped and slapped a hand across his mouth. "Sorry, ma'am."

The sides of her mouth quirked up. "That's alright, Marek. They do pay your parents and the other villagers, though."

"Yeah. Don't you ever go to visit them? Surely it's better to see your sister than watch her in this little picture."

"Yes, it would be. Unfortunately, we're all very busy people."

"You're not that busy. I mean, you are, but you could do all the stuff you do somewhere else, couldn't you?"

"Well, I could, but don't you remember why you came here in the first place, Marek?"

"Yeah. I thought you were the Wicked Witch of the North come again."

"Well, lots of people think that, and so I stay here, out of the way, to avoid any problems."

"But you're not wicked," Marek protested.

"Well, I like to think I'm not!" She smiled. "Nevertheless, I did a lot of terrible things in the past. When my penance is paid, my mother, the Queen, will ask me to return."

He looked up at her. "But I asked around, real careful like, to avoid suspicion, and the story is that you were possessed by the _real_ Wicked Witch. Nobody in Northwood believes it, but that's what the official word is."

"That's true. I was possessed. I was still responsible for a lot of problems, though. And really, it was all my own fault. So, I'm working off my punishment. And one day, I'll be clean again, and I can just start over, and ..."

There was a short silence, and then she continued, in a more subdued voice, "Well, no point in dreaming about the future when the present is right here. Esmeralda is in bed, and it is time for us to do the washing up."


	10. Chapter 10

The summer was in decline, although on the Northern Island this was mainly ascertained merely by the position of the sun, rather than any other indicators. Marek had told her that down in the village of Northwood, the rain was shifting to sleet, in preparation for when it became real snow.

When he was not around, Azkadellia spent far too much time watching Esmeralda in her magic mirror, although the little girl did not carry her teddy bear around all that much. Still, the evening glimpses were very precious to her. The Queen usually came to tuck Esmeralda into bed, much as she had done for Azkadellia herself when she was small. Azkadellia was happy that her Mother was treating Esmeralda as her own daughter.

Occasionally, Azkadellia felt as though she were prying, or taking an unhealthy interest in Esmeralda's life, but although she could walk away from the mirror of an evening, the next day she was back, looking for glimpses of Esmeralda's life. Esmeralda did not return the interest. Azkadellia had only overheard one conversation involving her, and though she knew that she should not have listened, she had done so anyway.

It had been just prior to the last visit to the Northern Island, and Esmeralda had been complaining to the Queen about the necessity of visiting. It was cold, and a long way away. There was nothing to do, and, well, her sister Azkadellia was a bit creepy.

The Queen had looked a little put out. "You mustn't say things like that, darling. Your sister cares for you, and only gets to see you every annual or so. Of course she pays attention to you when she does see you."

Esmeralda had scrunched her face up in defiance. "She treats me like I'm a baby."

The Queen had sighed. "People who haven't raised children themselves don't really appreciate how quickly you grow up. Your sister saw a lot more of you when you were small, and so that's how she remembers you."

Esmeralda had then lowered her voice as if imparting a great secret. "People say that she's a Wicked Witch, and that she imprisoned you and did terrible things."

The Queen had looked downhearted, and had not replied, so Esmeralda had piped up again. "It's true, isn't it? That's why she has to live in that horrible cold icy rock, rather than here, with us?"

"No, my dear," the Queen had said firmly. "You mustn't listen to rumour and gossip. I'll tell you the truth. You can ask DG as well if you like. Your sister was possessed by an evil spirit when she was very young, and the evil spirit did some terrible things through her. The evil spirit was killed by DG, remember that story? When she returned from the Other Side after her long exile there, along with Ambrose, and Raw, and Wyatt? Lots of people in the O.Z. were hurt, though, and they don't want to believe that she was possessed because they want somebody to blame. Or, even if they do believe that she was possessed, they can't stop themselves remembering when they see her. So, Azkadellia has to stay at the Northern Island because it wouldn't be safe for her anywhere else. One day, though, I hope that she'll be able to come and stay with us for good."

Esmeralda had soon gone to sleep after this, but Azkadellia treasured the conversation, replaying it in her head, as a beacon of hope for the future, and as a reminder that Mother still considered her salvageable.

* * *

In the end, of course, the magic mirror proved to be far more trouble than it was worth, as magic mirrors are wont to do. Young Marek Pontis was visiting again. He had somehow transmuted from would-be assassin into friend. She knew that he kept his visits secret from his family, and that she should not encourage him, but having a regular visitor was so welcome that she could not bring herself to do so. In any case, she was offering him a great opportunity by giving him free rein in the library. He was a smart, brave young lad, and the O.Z. needed people like him.

They had had dinner, and, as was her custom when he was visiting, she went to check quickly in her magic mirror that Esmeralda was okay. He followed, peering over his shoulder. She had the impression that he disapproved of her little spying game, but he was too polite, or too afraid, to say anything. Still, she tended not to linger when he was around.

The scene that swam into view was familiar. Esmeralda was sitting on the floor, playing with the teddy bear Azkadellia had given her. There was no one else around. Then, there was a sharp bang, as the door was opened brusquely, smacking against the wall. A young man that Azkadellia did not recognize dashed in. Esmeralda looked up and squeaked in fear as the man bore down on her, roaring. "There you are, little princess. Surprise - you're being kidnapped!"

He hoisted Esmeralda over his shoulder, and she started screaming, and kicking her legs about. He dashed out, and a colleague in the kidnapping dashed in with a small leather sack, stuffing the princess' nightclothes in, and after looking round, settled on the teddy bear and also pushed it in. The mirror went dark.

Marek turned to look at her. "Did that just really happen?"

Azkadellia swallowed with some difficulty. "Yes. It did. She's been kidnapped. I must tell Mother."

She dashed off to scribble down a note. As she looked back over it, she saw that her handwriting was terrible, but it was still legible. She summoned a crow and sent the letter off.

"How long will it take to get there?" asked Marek.

"Too long. I mean, crows fly fast, but they'll have taken her goodness knows where." She closed her eyes, thinking hard. "I should be able to track the teddy bear, even if it is in a sack. We can let Mother know where she is."

Marek jumped up, looking too keen. "You said yourself, that'll take too long, with the crows and whatnot. We should go ourselves and rescue her. We can send messages to make sure everyone knows where we're going. But that would be the best way to make sure that she stays safe."

Azkadellia gnawed on her thumb for a moment. "Yes. You're right. I've got a horse in the stables; I can leave right away. Well, I'll need to get together some food and gear, but that won't take long." She rushed off to get ready, and was somewhat surprised when Marek hoved into view, leading his horse and gear. "You're not coming with me, Marek. It's far too dangerous, and none of your business."

Marek snorted. "Of course I'm coming with you. Every Princess needs a bodyguard!"

"Who knows how long it'll take? Your parents will get worried."

"I'll send them a message saying that I am stalking a big deer. Dad'll be pleased."

She should have argued, but the prospect of company at this time was too appealing, and so she let him accompany her. His first advice as bodyguard was to wait for sun-up the next morning – traveling in the dark was too risky.

They had ridden south fast, joining the main road after passing Northwood. Azkadellia had a veil wrapped around her face to avoid any unfortunate incidents, but she was in no mood to brook any interruptions. Travelling at speed, they covered a lot of ground, and by nightfall, they were perhaps a half day's ride from Central City. On the ride, Azkadellia had magicked her map to show the location of the teddy bear. The kidnappers had clearly moved north, and were not too far away. Azkadellia and Marek continued along the road on horseback, and then spotted the location: a stone tower on top of a hill rising up like a monk's head from a forest of trees.

With the target so close, Azkadellia insisted on continuing, against Marek's advice, although she heeded his call to leave the horses in a safe place. There was no point in laming them when they might be needed later.

The forest was thick at the point they entered it, but one of the moons was high in the sky, which provided enough light to see by. Marek's woodscraft came in useful as he was able to identify some animal trails that they could follow. Although the tower had seemed far away, they soon reached the tree line that had been cut at the base of the tower.

Azkadellia spotted a sentry patrolling near the trees, luckily just past the point where they had arrived. A short burst of magic soon had him unconscious on the floor. They dashed over and rolled his body out of sight. Azkadellia found no recognizable livery or signs on his jerkin.

The next step was to approach the tower. Azkadellia created a portable shadow of sorts, and they dashed under its cover towards the base of the tower. Marek looked over and whispered, "Front door?"

She shook her head and pointed up. "Window?"

He nodded rather doubtfully, and then Azkadellia created a platform of more solid air with her magic and slowly lifted them up. They stopped close to a window, and after a quick peek to check that nobody was inside the room in question, Marek used his breaking and entering skills to get them inside.

To their surprise, once inside the tower, there were not many guards around – they were mostly posted by the front door, and Azkadellia quickly sent them all into unconsciousness. After that, it was a matter of carefully trying a series of doors. The correct door was not at the top of the tower, as she had been fearing would be the case, but instead simply on the third floor of the tower. Listening at the door, they heard nothing, but on carefully slipping it open, they pushed into a body.

The owner of that body shouted and spun round. Azkadellia and Marek pushed through, determined to seize an element of surprise. Esmeralda was there, on a thin bed, and two other children of a similar age were in beds alongside. They had been sleeping, but the guard's shout had startled them slightly awake. There were two other guards coming to their feet and stepping forward on the other side of the room.

Azkadellia recognized one of them as the kidnapper. She stepped forward and released her magic in a swirl of blue. The blue wave of air split into three streams and pushed the three guards backwards, lifting them into the air and dashing them against the walls. Azkadellia rushed towards Esmeralda while Marek stood at the door, keeping watch.

"Esmeralda! Are you alright? I've come to rescue you. Come on, let's get you and these other kids home."

By now, Esmeralda was fully awake, and looking rather fearsome. She sat up just as Azkadellia engulfed her in a hug. "Azkadellia. What are you doing here?"

"I learned that you'd been kidnapped, and came to rescue you." Azkadellia squeezed Esmeralda hard and dropped a kiss on the top of her head.

Esmeralda squirmed out of her arms. "I haven't been kidnapped! What are you talking about? This is a camping trip."

Azkadellia felt her hands drop to her sides bonelessly. "A camping trip?"

"Yes. What have you done to the guardsmen? I'm getting Mom." She turned away, her expression looking eerily familiar to Azkadellia. "Lorek, Maria, don't worry. This is my big sister. The one who lives at the Northern Island."

The boy whispered, for all the world as if he could not be heard, "The Wicked Witch?"

Esmeralda looked over her shoulder at Azkadellia, and smiled with a hint of malice. "Yes, the Wicked Witch. But she's not going to hurt _us_, at any rate." She turned to dig through her possessions.

Azkadellia turned to look at the fallen guardsmen. Two of them were simply unconscious, but the third one was still and unbreathing. His head had smacked into the stone hard, and the back of his skull had crumpled. There was blood all around his head, although it had not spread far, as yet. She reached forward tentatively with her magic, but it was clear that he was dead. She turned to look at Esmeralda, who was now reassuring her friends, and fingering a large emerald.

"A camping trip? You were kidnapped by these gentlemen from your bedroom."

Esmeralda put her hands on her hips defiantly. "How do you know that? Are you spying on me? And where are all the guards? You haven't killed them all, have you?"

Azkadellia could not find the words to answer, but stood to hide the dead guardsman's head from Esmeralda's view. Marek spoke up. "They're just unconscious."

Esmeralde turned to him next, her child's voice squeaky with anger. "And who might you be?"

He looked over at Azkadellia, but saw that she was in no position to help him out. "I'm Marek Pontis, ma'am. I was just assisting the Princess Azkadellia."

"Well, that's just great. I spent ages persuading Mom to let me go on this trip. I bet it'll never happen again." Esmeralda was building up a head of steam.

Azkadellia found her voice. "I'm sure Mother won't hold it against you. After all, it's my mistake."

"But the guardsmen should have been able to stop you. Mom said it was too risky." Esmeralda started to chew her thumb.

With a slight pop, the Queen and DG appeared in the middle of the room, DG supporting her mother's weight. They both glanced round, assessing the situation. The Queen said, "Esmeralda, are you okay?"

At the same time, DG said, "Az, what are you doing here?"

Esmeralda piped up, keen on being the centre of attention. "My sister and her servant broke in here and knocked all the guards unconscious. Somehow, she thought I'd been kidnapped, and needed rescuing."

The Queen turned to face Azkadellia, exasperated. "I sent you a message saying not to worry about it." With perfect timing, a rather tired looking crow flapped up to the window and knocked on it with his beak.

Azkadellia shrugged helplessly. "I thought that Esmeralda was in danger. I couldn't stand by…"

The Queen sighed sharply. "How did you know anyway? Have you been spying on the palace?"

Azkadellia looked to the floor, and felt the weight of her mother's disappointment heavy on her shoulders. "Yes. I put a trace on the teddy bear."

The Queen raised her eyes upwards and then turned to the children. "Come on kids, we'd better be getting you home. The other guards are?"

"Unconscious downstairs," murmured Azkadellia.

"DG, could you take the three children downstairs and wake up the guards and get ready to go back to Central City? We'll leave as soon as possible, I think."

DG nodded, and then reached over to give Azkadellia a hug. Azkadellia could not relax into it; everything was going wrong. DG let her go, and then shooed the three children out of the room. Marek hovered at the door, but then the Queen crooked her finger at him, indicating that he should stay, and close the door.

She brushed roughly past Azkadellia towards the dead guard and touched gingerly at his wound. "Well this is all a fine mess, isn't it. He's dead. You killed him! How am I supposed to pass this off? Killed by one Princess while guarding another? What am I going to tell his family? Why couldn't you just have waited?"

Azkadellia felt truly miserable. "They weren't wearing any livery. How was I supposed to know that he was one of the Royal Guardsmen? And he said he was kidnapping Esmeralda!"

"It was a secret trip, to avoid the attention of the Freedom terrorists. I didn't think they'd have to avoid you as well. Couldn't you just once manage to go outside without managing to persuade more people that you really are evil and not possessed!" The Queen had worked herself up into a most unseemly fury. "You could have waited for my reply. Not gone haring all this way, to look for your_sister_." The intonation seemed particularly pointed to Azkadellia. "I'm sure the 'kidnapping' was just a turn of phrase. Now I'm going to have to make up some story of how that man died an honourable death and hope that it doesn't leak out that you were responsible. If it does, I don't know how I'm going to save you."

Marek stepped forward, brave and stupid. "Your Majesty, the Princess Azkadellia was just trying to help."

"Young man, that is precisely the problem. I'll make sure that teddy bear is destroyed. And you are to promise me, Azkadellia, that you will not perform any kind of scrying on her in the future."

Azkadellia started to protest. "But…"

The Queen interrupted. "No buts. You can't invade her privacy like that, and it's not good for you either. Promise."

Azkadellia wilted before her mother's fierce glare. "I promise not to scry on Esmeralda."

"Good." The Queen turned away as if she could no longer bear to look at her firstborn. Azkadellia stared glumly at the floor as the Queen started to interrogate Marek. "Now who are you, young man?"

"Marek Pontis, ma'am, of Northwood."

"And what are you doing with the Princess Azkadellia?"

"She's been letting me use the library at the Northern Palace, ma'am, and I was around at the time that the Princess saw that the Princess Esmeralda had apparently been kidnapped. So, I said I'd come with her."

"Well, that was very brave of you, Mr. Pontis. How did you meet the Princess Azkadellia, though? Last time I passed through Northwood, I was told that your townsfolk had no direct contact."

Azkadellia heard Marek's nervous chuckle. "I, er, well, that is, I decided, as an adventure, to try and, well, assassinate her. Clearly, I didn't, but she let me look at some of the books in the library."

The Queen's voice sounded pinched, but with amusement or annoyance, Azkadellia could not tell. "You tried to assassinate a Princess?"

"Well, I thought she was the Wicked Witch of the North. I know better now, of course."

The Queen sniffed. "Well, Azkadellia, at least that time you didn't overreact. You sound like a most resourceful young man, Mr. Pontis. I imagine Northwood seems very small at times?"

"Yes," he said sheepishly.

"Well, how old are you?"

"Fourteen, ma'am."

"So young and yet so brave. And loyal to my daughter, apparently. Well, we're always looking for brave, talented people for the army. You're about the right age to join the army officers' college. The state will pay for your tuition. There are too few young men of sufficient valour."

Azkadellia glanced up; Marek was positively bouncing on the spot. "Oh, Your Majesty, that would be grand."

"There's an examination that you'll have to pass first."

Azkadellia spoke up. "That shouldn't be a problem. Mr. Pontis is very clever."

"I can't imagine why you thought it suitable to allow a fourteen annual old to accompany you on a rescue mission." The asperity was back in the Queen's voice.

"No, it seems rather silly now. What do you want me to do, Mother?"

The Queen sighed. "Go home. I'll take care of everything. Just try to keep out of the way. I think that Mr. Pontis should come to Central City immediately, so that he can take this examination and see if the officers' college is to his liking. We can send a message to your family, if you give me the details later. Azkadellia, do you have a transport key you can use to get back to the Northern Palace?"

"No, we rode."

"You rode all that way in one day?" The Queen sounded grudgingly impressed.

Azkadellia waited in the tower room with the dead body while the Queen took care of Marek and DG organized the return to Central City. DG popped up an hour or so later. "Hey, sis. Everyone's up and on their feet. Well, apart from …" she nodded in the direction of the dead body. "They're all okay, although some of them have their pride bruised. Mom didn't tell them what happened, just that there had been a test attack. I'm not quite sure how she thinks she's going to get those three kids to keep quiet, though!"

The conversation required that she answer, but Azkadellia was feeling rather sullen. "Why was this trip a secret, anyway? Who are the Freedom terrorists?"

DG was a bit blindsided by this. "You don't know? Haven't I mentioned them in my letters? They're some bunch of rebel thugs, based in the north-east of the O.Z., we think, although nobody knows for sure. They move around attacking places here and there. They burned down one of the Munchkinland small forests an annual and a half ago, and been involved in some other terrorist actions."

"Oh. What do they want?" On learning this, Azkadellia felt even more cut off from the world than she had before.

"God only knows. Freedom, according to their name. The end of the rule of the House of Gale. We haven't had much success, or desire, to communicate with them. If they get in touch with you, let us know straight away." DG paused and then forced a smile. "But Esmeralda's really headstrong, and after hearing one of Dad's camping trip stories – you remember? – she declared that she had to go on a trip, and wouldn't hear otherwise."

Azkadellia ignored this, and said, "Can you make sure Marek is okay? He's quite young, really. Did Mother mention this idea of officers' school to you?"

"Yes, she introduced him as one of her testers, and chided all the guardsmen at being bested by a fourteen annual old! They didn't like that. But he seems like a plucky little thing. Have you known him long?" DG's face looked vaguely suspicious.

"No, a few months. He tried to kill me – thought he had to save his village from my terrible powers of destruction." Azkadellia tried to lighten the words; usually remembering the story made her smile, but this time it just felt like an added burden.

DG's hands flew to her mouth. "That's awful. How do you manage it up there, Az? I think I'd go mad."

Azkadellia laughed bitterly. "Well, I used to watch Esmeralda. I guess I'll have to find a new hobby now."

DG had obviously picked up on the anger in her voice. "Hey, calm down, Az. I'll tell you about her in my letters. Maybe she'll write more to you as she gets older. She's just like you really. Ever so good at magic, just like you were."

Azkadellia stood up. "Just stop talking, DG. I don't want to know. She's nothing to do with me. She didn't like me before, and I'm sure she doesn't like me any more now. And that's the way it is, and will always be. That's the way it should be." She walked to the window and looked out. "Just go away, DG. Go back to Central City. Go back to your Mr. Duval."

DG did not reply, and Azkadellia forced herself to keep staring out into the dark, ignoring the reflections in the glass. She was surprised when DG's thin arms tightened around her waist, but forced herself to ignore the hug. DG said nothing, and just leaned her head against Azkadellia's back for a long moment. Finally, DG said, "Az, I'm sure she'll like you when she's a bit older. She's just a kid at the moment."

After a moment, Azkadellia said, sarcastically, "Of course, because I see her so often. I try, DG, but it never seems to work. I thought I was doing the right thing, but instead I've just added another murder to the many I already bear."

DG did not reply, just kept leaning into Azkadellia. A few seconds later, there was a soft knock on the door. It opened and Marek came in. He said, "Excuse me. The Queen said that it's time to go, Princess."

DG waited for a moment and then let go. "I'll come and visit, soon, Az." She stepped away.

Azkadellia stayed facing out, but this time focused on the reflection. Marek was looking at her. He said, "Princess. I'm going with the Queen – she's offering me the best opportunity!" His young voice was full of enthusiasm.

Azkadellia forced herself to turn around, remembering that he was just a boy. "Good luck, Marek. I'm so happy for you. I'm sure you will do excellently. Remember that you must get in touch with your parents, though. Your mother will worry if you are away too long without any news."

Marek grinned. "Thank you. I'll visit when I come up to Northwood." He dashed forward and wrapped her in a hug. After a moment, she responded, tousling his hair.

Then she let go and pushed him out to arms' length. "Good-bye, Marek." She looked over and nodded at DG, "DG."

The pair of them left, and Azkadellia went to the window to watch them leave. Both moons had set, and it was pitch black outside, with only the stars for light. She made her way out of the tower, and then started through the forest. She picked up her speed, and was soon running along the barely remembered trail, gathering scratches on her arms. The horses were still there

Azkadellia waited until the troop had left. It was the middle of the night, and she supposed that someone would be coming to collect the body. Then, she walked down out of the front door, and back into the forest towards where she and Marek had left the horses. Marek's horse was gone, and she supposed that he had come to collect it earlier. She mounted her own horse and started to ride straight away to the north. She rode as if driven by the devil, running from her thoughts. She arrived at the Northern Island and unsaddled her horse mechanically, brushing it down and giving it some feed.

She walked into the kitchen, and hugged herself, suddenly feeling the bitter cold. Her thoughts caught up with her, and tears built up behind her eyes. Then she started to cry, slumping to the floor in despair.


End file.
